A sort of gladiator contest between this man and some others who were wrestlers at a local sports club. A faction of the crowd thought this was a good...idea, but others decried it as old hat. After all, nobody had insulted the Emir in his own Palace for years and so some special punishment was called for.Kamal Qumsiyeh then said the traditional punishment was flogging to death for such a crime, but that the insult was so serious that flogging didn't seem enough. There were people who suggested. Little secret. I’m not as ... upper crust as I let people believe. Old habits die hard, of course. I’ve found that pretending to be an aristocrat usually serves me well. Stiff upper lip and all that jazz,” Anne confessed in a conspiratorial whisper.“Yeah, well, I suspected as much when I learned that your ex’s name was Mick. Not exactly an Oxford man’s name, at least not from what I’ve seen. But your secret’s safe with me, Geordie,” I winked at her.“How could you tell that I’m really from. Even Heather struggled with that one. I think Emmy liked it better when Heather was just a bitch about things.When Christmas Eve arrived, we had been getting the house cleaned up. Aunt Cindy, Uncle Dave and the boys were coming over for a few days. Emmy had to clean up her room while I got drafted to do the extra bedroom. The boys were going to sleep in the extra room and our aunt and uncle in Emmy's room. Heather was going to volunteer to help me, until Em gave her that death glare."Hey Rich,. .” “Show him the rest, baby,” Andrew told me, giving my ass a little squeeze. Just about that time I remembered that the garage door was wide open and I told Andrew, “The door’s open. Someone’s going to see.” “There ain’t nobody looking, bitch! Get then fucking drawers off!” Andrew snapped, giving my ass a hard slap. For the second time in as many minutes I found myself eagerly obeying commands that I never would have considered before. Both of the men looked my body up and down. “Turn around,”.